Viking Slaves Novels & Stories

The noises were gone and the voice I had heard earlier was gone too. She stood in the same position and watched me for a moment. ”I was wrong, you weren't a slave at the Lycan Pack. You had the Alpha protecting you from in the shadows, but now you are. You’re the slave of an even worse Alpha, one that doesn't care about you in the slightest, one that wants to kill your family. He will take over this pack, all of it, and after he’s down, he will kill you and throw you to the curb.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Because it was believed that they did evil and were the sinners of Eplica, the authorities looked the other way as their bastards were turned into slaves and bloodline cultivation resources. The ones that were captured would be drained of their heart blood and their heart blood would be refined and devoured by their captors. It was even said that the bastards of the Viedanise were like bargaining chips at underground auctions where they were either sold for money or used as a means of exchange. Even though slavery was never a thing among the Turakies until the fall of the Viedanise. By the time they were completely wiped out, it had found a stronghold among mercenaries and didn't stop.

“What?!” “A human slave, Ginnie,” Kenna went on, enjoying every bit of attention she was getting from Ravena. “Varkos has reassigned her to his personal slave.” Ravena’s gaze snapped to me, sharp with disbelief, “You did what?” “Yes,” I said coldly, rising slowly to my feet. “I assigned her to be my personal slave.” Ravena stood as well, her restraint cracking little by little. “Have you lost your mind, Varkos?” she hissed, “Why in the world would you make a human your personal slave?”

It was only after I came to the capital of Atheon that I realized the truth: Wolves owned the world, and the king owned them. I was an ordinary human now. A girl who could be sold to scrub floors or auctioned to sell her body. There was no lupine blood in me, no witchcraft either. And if there is one thing I hated, it's the Werewolves. Once, one of the girls at the brothel told me that when the werewolves came, years ago, they turned everyone into slaves. If you were lucky, you were sold as one. A house slave. A war slave. Sometimes a girl was called lucky if a wolf claimed her and she became one of them. The worst fate of all, she said, was to be sold for bodies instead of labor.

Not today though. She bared her teeth, chest rumbling, and knowing what was coming, I braced myself as she slammed me into the wall behind me, the back of my head hitting it so hard I thought my cranium would crack. Lycans healed fast, but that by no means meant we are immune to the feeling of pain. We felt pain as keenly as any human. If not more. “You are worthless, slave.” she spat. “Weak, being bait fits you so well. I can think of nothing better to show you just how insignificant and expendable you are.”

I’m having breakfast with Nadia and her mom. Nadia is beaming, and I’m happy that she has found her mom. I hope to help them find her father, but if he had let anyone know about his lycan heritage, he would have been killed. The chances that he survived are slim. Male rogue slaves tend to be killed within the first few years of servitude for one reason or another. They are assigned hard and tedious work. They are often used as training dummies for the warriors of the pack and sustain severe injuries.

Ragnar answered quickly, puffing out his chest, already playing the part of a proud beast showing off his territory. “But I thought there were four of you?” she pressed, tilting her head slightly. Ragnar chuckled. “Looks like Villion couldn’t be bothered to welcome you, my sweet little human,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “He was already disappointed with our first sacrifice… that slave over there.” He jabbed a finger toward me. “Too ugly and lacking in flesh... There wasn’t enough on her bones to interest him. So he didn’t even bother showing up.”

While Rain was left thinking about how her pack would blame her later for not being able to stop the fire wolf. Rain was well aware that Viking werewolves, even humans carried out raids to rob monasteries of their treasure and to capture individuals as slaves. They frequently sold the things they stole so they might get the things they desired. Yeah, monasteries, and rich people, that's what she knows usually Viking wolves are raiding, but her pack robbing another lowly pack? She wasn't aware of that fact.

It was tradition that the king had his own blood slave on the raids, whilst other soldiers shared from the limited stock, and as Thaelen would be taking on leading the raids the following year, Thorarin had given Thaelen two options – take on a second blood slave who would accompany him or bring Sigrid. Sigrid knew Thaelen’s reluctance to take on additional blood slaves and did not wish to share her position, therefore she had consented to make the journey as a trial. If it did not work for them both, Thaelen would select a slave from amongst the captured humans and they would train that person over the break between raids. Altherra and Thorarin reached out to lift Sigrid on board as she rea

Naya said in her head, but Elora nearly screamed for her to shut up so she could think. Magnus and the other slaves looked at Larsen in shock before the slaves returned their gaze back to Elora and their eyes got covered in envy. They'd never heard of a slave being sold at such a high amount; it was always thousand dollars, but here she was, with the price of a hundred million dollars and not just a million, a five hundred million. Is she some sort of special goddess? And their envious eyes soon turned to angry glares.